


Homecoming

by Xiaojian



Series: Castlevania Week [5]
Category: Castlevania: Lords of Shadow, 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Angst, Family, Gen, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 01:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8182886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xiaojian/pseuds/Xiaojian
Summary: Trevor comes home to his family after being away for far too long.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 5 of Castlevania Week.
> 
> Also, I've just noticed that "angst" and "family" are tags on, like, half of my stories. Is that a bad thing...?

It had been ages since he’d set foot in his own home. Or at least, it felt like it. He hadn’t been gone that long, but being away from the loves of his life always made the time slow to a crawl.

They were both asleep when he stepped inside and wiped his mud-coated boots on the entrance. The house was quiet, and the lingering smell of hearty stew hung heavy in the air. He shrugged off his heavy cloak and draped it over a chair at the table, before removing his boots and leaving them to dry by the wall.

On a whim, Trevor closed his eyes, running his hand along the wall. It had a familiar texture that felt distinctly like home. Knotted, rough but not enough to splinter unless you weren’t careful. It was colder than usual, but then again, it was a cold night.

He almost tiptoed to the bedroom, not wanting to wake anyone. His face broke into a smile as soon as he saw the scruffy heads of red hair on the pillows. Simon was getting so big so fast, but that didn’t stop him from curling up in his mother’s arms every night, burrowing into her softness and warmth. Sypha, for her part, kept a protective, loving arm wrapped around her son, daring the world to try and harm him.

Carefully, Trevor pulled the sheet up and climbed underneath, laying close beside his wife. The sweet smell of her hair was stronger than he remembered, and he inhaled it happily. He rested an arm around her waist, and she shifted, muttering sleepily without opening her eyes.

“Mmm, you’re home?”

“I am.”

“Took you long enough,” she murmured, teasing.

“But I’m here now.”

Sypha rubbed his hand. “You’re freezing.”

“Sorry,” he laughed, soft.

“Mmm, go to sleep. It’s been a long week.”

“I will.” He kissed her hair and drifted off, listening to the soft, rhythmic patterns of his family’s breathing.

He was awoken by a commotion. Someone was yanking him out of bed, yelling.

“...invade my home and target my family? Coward! Can’t even face a hunter like a man!”

He blinked, bleary, and found himself on his bedroom floor, staring up at the furious face of...

...himself?

“Out!” The other Trevor Belmont was livid, his cheeks flushed as he pointed out the door, brandishing his combat cross with the other hand. “Out, monster!”

Trevor’s confusion was replaced by anger. Whatever doppelganger this was had no right to call him a monster. He pointed right back at the replica to make just that accusation, and only then did he notice his hand.

Claws. Gray skin stained red with blood.

A monster’s hand.

He didn’t have too long to stare down at his unfamiliar body before Trevor was dragging him out of his home by force. He struggled against the hands that wrapped around his neck, his fighting completely ignored by the human, who was too busy damning him with every curse under the sun.

Trevor tossed him to the wet, muddy ground outside their home, and he finally managed to speak.

“Wait, please. You don’t understand - ”

The rest of his plea was cut off when his own combat cross pierced his chest.

Alucard woke up screaming. He looked around frantic, but the mausoleum he had made his shelter for the night was empty. Silent, but for the noise of rain pounding on the roof. He pressed his hand to his chest. He felt a wound there, but, of course. It had been made by his father.

He climbed out of the crypt. Rain be damned. It was night, and he wasn’t going to get anymore sleep any time soon.


End file.
